21 Century Breakdown: A Tale From Suburbia
by Magnus McKay
Summary: Christian and Gloria were made for each other, follow the story of their love and their loss in this adaptation of Green Day's 21st Century Breakdown, a tie in for the American Idiot Musical but in no way affiliated.
1. Prologue: Song of the Century

**Prologue**  
-Song Of The Century-

The fall sunlight, still orange in glow, floods the next street as you round the corner. The street is completely empty and every house is boarded up. There is a definite snap in the breeze that blows up the street towards you, it makes you want to wrap up against the coming winter and you draw your jacket around you.

You walk through the old neighbourhood slowly, your arms folded, a barrier against whatever brutal memories lie here. You've been told not to walk through the old neighbourhood, but it feels like you know it some how and you always found it was a comforting place to be, like home.

You pass the abandoned houses, burnt out and bullet pitted, windows and doors boarded up and sprayed with incoherent graffiti, bearing the slogans of the many different generations to live in the small town. This was once a neighbourhood of discontent, but you are far too young to remember the Class Wars, unlike the people you live with who remember it well. But they never talk about it, they just tell you it's in the past and you shouldn't think on it. The breeze picks up and you shiver as it reaches you.

You're used to the sight of the neighbourhood, you walk through it every day to get to the 7/11 to meet friends, but this evening it seems just… creepy. As you reach the middle of the nameless street you hear something new, a voice on a radio, fading in and out of reception. You stop and listen carefully, you tell yourself you're hearing things… but you know that tune, you know those words, you don't know how though.

Curiosity gets the better of you and you first check you aren't being followed then slowly search for the sound of the radio. It leads you to an old house, set further back from the rest of the street, its green paint peeling to reveal the white undercoat and the wood beneath. This building managed to escape the fires, but paid for it in bullet holes of various sizes. This house is where the music is coming from, much louder now, but still not clear enough to hear the words.

Looking up at the house, you make up your mind. Dropping your arms to your sides and taking a deep breath, you walk up the drive to the front door. You press your ear against the peeling door and the voice becomes clearer, "Sing u… ong… the century, loude… bombs and et…", the static on the radio makes the voice fade in and out, making words meld together. You step back and look around for a way to enter. The front is a no go, it's boarded up tight. So after a glance at your watch and a look over your shoulder, you run around back.

One of the windows leading into the small kitchen has been broken into, the board pulled away far enough to squeeze through. Something tells you to turn back, but you push those thoughts away and battle through the overgrown weeds. You pull yourself clumsily through the small gap, thinking in the process, that you would make a poor thief as you crash around. You dust yourself off and curse that you made a hole in your jeans. This distracts you for a few seconds, until you remember why you just squeezed through the window.

You look up at the damp ceiling and listen hard, the radio is upstairs. You take your cell phone out of your pocket, there is no reception here, however there is a flash light on it that you can use, which you promptly switch on to light the way. You rush through into the hall and make your way up the slightly rotten stairs, taking care to hold onto the handrail, even though it offers little protection from falling.

You at last pinpoint the radio to a bedroom at the very top of the stairs. You push the door, expecting it to open easily, but years of damp and rust have seized the door up and it takes you several kicks to open it up.

When you get the door open, you're shocked by the sight of the room. There is enough weak sunlight coming through the top half of the grimy window to see by, but the lace hanging over it is rotten and mouldy, blocking most of the light from getting in. The wallpaper is falling off the walls and there is a nasty stain on the wooden floor that you can't mistake as anything other than blood. There are a few sparse pieces of furniture including an old coffee table, a few chairs and a babies crib.

The radio is on the coffee table in the corner of the room furthest away from you. It's plugged into the wall, so obviously there is power still leading to the house. You try the light switch and you are pleasantly surprised when the old bulb flickers on, throwing a dim yellow light over the room.

You make your way slowly over to the radio, dodging the blood stain and keeping your eyes ahead. You pray silently to yourself that the floor holds out and that you don't fall through it into the room below. Your foot kicks something metal and you look down. It's an old tin, you frown and pick it up, it's heavy in your hands. You walk quickly over to the table the radio is on and you hike the dial up until the static is gone.

A calm soothing male voice emits from the speaker grill, calming you down and making you feel a little less scared than before. You place the tin on the coffee table and turn the radio up even louder.

"_Sing us a song of the century…_"

You open up the old tin, it's a struggle as the lid is just as rusted as the door you had to break down, but you manage to do it.

"_That's louder than bombs and eternity…_"

Your eyes widen as they fall on the boxes contents, all of which seem to have escaped the damp.

"_The era of static and contraband…_"

You place a shaky hand into the box and pull out a gun, holding it up to look at it closely, it's fully loaded.

"_That's leading us into the promised land…_"

You recognise the make… it's a Peacemaker, you put it to one side, careful to check that you don't take the safety off accidentally.

"_Tell us a story that's by candlelight…_"

You pull a tattered looking notebook out of the box, the front is splotched with more bloodstains, but you're not bothered by that any more.

"_Waging the war and loosing the fight…_"

You look closely at the front, reading the faded title, '21st Century Breakdown', you look up and listen to the song on the radio and you're shocked when you begin to sing along with it.

"_They're playing the song of the century, of panic and promise and prosperity, tell me a story into that goodnight, sing us a song for me…_"

The voice fades and the station slips into static once more. You place a shaky hand on the dial and switch it off. You look down at the book in your hands and open it up. A picture slides out of it and hit's the ground. It's an out of focus Polaroid photo of a young couple woman caught in a loving embrace, kissing gently. The picture is so old that it's hard to tell who it is in the photograph. You slide it back into the book and you open it to the first page.

Quickly flicking through it you see that it is filled with writing. This was someone's diary, in fact by the looks of it this was shared by two people. The first page is dominated by a heavy scrawl and later a fine, elegant script. You pull an old beaten up chair towards you and sit down. As the light outside begins to dim, you begin to read.


	2. Chapter 1: 21st Century Breakdown

_ACT I - HEROES & CONS_

**Chapter One**  
-21st Century Breakdown-  
'_My generation is zero_'

Things are getting worse in this town, there's been another shooting on the corner of 12th and I've had to find a different way to get to work and back, due to the fact the cops aren't letting people pass through the end of the street and the bus doesn't actually head out as far as the refinery.

The new route takes me through an even worse part of town and I'm just happy I've got my gun in the back of my belt cause I sure as hell ain't gonna walk the streets without it. But there is just no other way to get to work.

Apparently, according to the older guys at the refinery, a gang of teenagers were messing around with a gun they didn't have a licence for, and when the police turned up they scattered. The cop who came to the scene thought they'd robbed the 7/11 the previous night at gunpoint and threatened to shoot the kid that had the gun. The kid however turned and shot at the cop, scared out of his wits, and the cop shot him stone dead. It wasn't the kind of conversation I wanted over lunch, especially with a gun in the back of my locker.

-o0o-

On my way home from work, something terrible and yet amazing happened. I'd finished my shift at the refinery and I was walking home quickly down 14th and I spotted a scuffle in the middle of the road. As I got closer, keeping to the sidewalk, I saw it was a cop beating the crap out of a teenage boy who looked only a few years younger than me. The cop was laying into him, kicking him in the ribs and the kid was screaming for help, but nobody came.

There was a yell from behind me and a girl dressed almost all in black, came racing up the road, launching herself at the cop and punching him in the face repeatedly until the guy dropped to the ground. I saw a glint of metal as she slid something into her back pocket.

She turned to me, looked me dead in the eye and yelled at me.

"Hey, you, come help me get this kid outta here before the fuckin' cops come."

I didn't know what else to do, so I obliged. Taking an arm each we hoisted the kid up onto our shoulders and ran with him sobbing in pain.

"Where do we take him? If we take him to the hospital they'll track him down, and us." I said shakily.

"You're right… okay, we'll take him to mine, I know the kid." she replied, picking up her pace to almost a jog.

It was a short distance to her place, but to me it felt like the longest walk ever. Every step felt like I was getting myself deeper and deeper into trouble. I'd never been in trouble with the cops before and I had a horrible feeling I was going to get picked up for this. I don't know what it was about the girl, but the whole way to her house, I couldn't keep my eyes off her. She was so amazingly beautiful, even though she kinda scared me a little.

When we got to her place, a green house set back from the street, she opened up the door real quick and helped the kid inside. I waited outside not wanting to leave without seeing her one last time before I went home. I caught my breath and tried my best to stop myself from shaking. She returned to the front door and smiled at me.

"Thanks for your help." she said, then closed the door.

I blinked a few times, that was all I was gonna get, not even a thank you? I took a deep breath and began to walk back down the driveway, my heart sinking right into my boots. Before I'd gotten to her mailbox however, she opened the door again and called out to me.

"Wait, what's your name?" she asked leaning on the door frame.

"Christian." I replied.

"Gloria." she called back, smiling at me once more.

She closed the door again, slower this time, a smile on her face and I couldn't help but mutter her name under my breath. She was so beautiful, words could not describe.

I swear I have no idea how I got home, but I couldn't even sleep from the light's early dawn. I couldn't help but think about Gloria and the way she looked at me when she closed the door. I'll admit it, I'd fallen in love with a firecracker.

-o0o-

Dad asked me to fix the car in the afternoon, I'd managed to get a few hours sleep where I dreamt only of her. The way she looked the previous night, the spark in her eyes. I didn't have a clue what I was doing, I was that wrapped up in my own thoughts. I must have checked over that engine three times and done nothing to it. I didn't even notice the girl run her hand along the sleek bodywork of the car, walking towards me. She ran her hand up my arm and I looked up at her.

"Gloria!" I exclaimed.

She looked so different from the previous night, her dark hair was down around her shoulders and she was wearing a simple red and black striped top and jeans. I swear that my heart skipped a beat as I turned to face her and I saw her in all her beauty in the bright afternoon sunlight. As she fixed me with a steady gaze she slipped her sunglasses onto the top of her head revealing a pair of stunningly bright green eyes.

"Hello Christian." she said softly.

She looked down at the engine of the car and smiled.

"Fixin' her up?" she asked softly.

"Uh, yeah, I am actually." I said, waving my wrench a little.

"Here…" she said holding her hand out.

I frowned and reluctantly passed over the wrench. She leaned over the engine and set to work. Two minutes later she extracted herself from the engine bay and smiled up at me, her eyes glittering in the sun.

"Try her out." she said, slamming the bonnet down.

I obeyed, getting into the car and staring her up. She purred like a kitten, whatever Gloria had done, it seemed to have worked. Okay this woman was perfect, hot and a mechanic…

She smiled at me through the windscreen, leaning on the bonnet. I got out of the car slowly taking care not to blurt anything out that would make her leave, no matter how much I wanted to say it.

"Uh… how's the kid?" I asked, thinking of nothing else safe to say.

"The kid is fine, few broken ribs, concussion… I took him home this morning, he'll be okay." she replied smiling.

She moved closer to me and looked up at me. She looked me dead in the eye with those stunning greens and dropped her smile.

"I'm telling you now Christian, I've seen the look you give me, I'm bad fuckin' news. I'm made of poison and blood and I'll just drag you down with me. Stay away, for your own sake." she said softly.

"I can't you're too… too…" I genuinely couldn't find a word to describe her.

"I'm dangerous… trouble follows me around, you stick with me and I can't say if you'll get out of this alive, you still believe in the heroes and cons, the like the world has never seen before."

"Then tell me different, tell me something that's worth fighting for, coz I can think of one damn good reason right now."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Gloria, you."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Gloria smiled again and wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me gently. It seemed to last an age. When she pulled away I looked deeply into her eyes and I saw that same spark she had the previous night. I was in love, at first sight. She rested her head on my shoulder and began to whisper into my ear, her breath soft on my neck.

"If that's true then lets run away together then. Now, today…"

"Why would you wanna do that?" I asked.

"Because this town is nothing and the class war is raging and if I stay a moment longer I'm gonna set it alight."

"Then we'll set it alight. We'll torch it all."

"Honestly?"

"I'll give it my heart and my soul, we'll bring this town to it's knees." I muttered, my teeth gritted.

What was it about this woman that made me want to rip the world apart for her? She was right though… she is poison, but she's my poison. Everything happened so quickly. That night we slept together under the moonlight looking out across the town and that night I promised her that if anything was to happen to her, that this town would still taste revolution on it's streets.


	3. Chapter 2: Know Your Enemy

**Chapter 2**  
-Know Your Enemy-  
'_So gimme, gimme revolution_'

The moon was so bright that night we slept together on the hill. I had never felt like this for anyone before, I had fallen for him so quickly. Christian was so naïve though, he still had the old lies hanging round his neck like a weight. So that night I taught him, I taught him who our enemies are, what our enemies are. And he listened. And he understood what had to be done to fix the world.

-o0o-

Christian held my hand and we looked out over the town, looking down on it like saints looking down on their followers. But we weren't going to hold out a hand and lead the poor bastards in the township into a life of lies. I had been quiet for a long time, thinking about the things I had seen in my life, the things that haunted me and made me want to burn the town down to the ground. "Are you okay, Gloria?" Christian asked, worried by my silence.

I looked at him and smiled moving back from the edge of the wall we were sat on and standing up, turning my back on the bright lights of the town. I looked up a the moon and stars that shone through the orange glow of the city lights. A cool breeze made me shiver and I drew my arms across my chest.

"Do you know the enemy?" I asked seriously, my voice barely above a whisper.

Christian smiled and shook his head, closing his eyes. I turned to face him properly and pointed to the town with a shaking finger.

"They are the enemy, silence is the enemy…" I said loudly.

I was getting angry, I don't know why. Christian looked at me reproachfully, his eyes formed into a small frown. What I was about to say was going to hurt, but it had to be said for him to understand.

"Not everyone surely." he replied.

"You've been brought up listening to the faces on the television and the voices on the radio. There are kids, KIDS, fightin' in a war that their fathers started over oil and nuclear weapons. They were lead by an idiot who doesn't know his ass from his elbow. And now we're sufferin' for it, just look at this town! The only job you can find is in the refinery and what it's throwin' out into the air we breathe, is slowly poisonin' us. And d'you know what the alternative is? To die for this country, to be a victim of the status quo. It shouldn't be like that, we bow to our leaders then they kick us in the gut, like that cop was to that kid. I'm not gonna to sit back and watch it, we need to send a message to this country and unfortunately the only way we can do it is through fightin', not for us but for our kids." I looked away from Christian, breathing heavily.

I was shaking so badly and I desperately wanted to hit something, but I kept myself in line. He had already seen a taste of what I was like when I got angry and I didn't want him to see any more of that, not for now. I needed to save my anger for the people who deserved it, I needed it to keep going.

I took a deep calming breath and turned back to Christian who was watching me closely from the wall, his bare skin glowing pale in the moonlight. I put my hands on my hips and gritted my teeth, making myself clam down. What I had said to him had obviously hit home as he was quiet and his face was twisted into a look of deep thought. I'd gotten through to him at least, it was now just a waiting game for him to start asking me questions about it.

"You honestly believe this?" he asked at last.

A predictable question, it was always the same when I shared my opinion with people. Like I would say it if I didn't believe in what I was saying…

"Every damn word. We have the worst economy in 50 years, we are sending our kids to war… it's wrong, it's all so very wrong and most people are blinded by the promises the talkin' heads spew out every election."

"You know," Christian said, getting up and standing by my side, "I wanted to join the army."

"More fool you."

"I don't know if I could go through with it now."

"You're already part of a war, you don't need to go join another one."

"What? What war am I in?"

"The Class War… the poor are dying on the streets, unable to find a job to keep a roof over their head, while the rich are comfy in their big houses. Half the worlds too fat, half the worlds too thin, and nobody is doing a damned thing about it. There is corruption in the establishment, look at that kid that got beat up last night, or the kid that got shot 'cause he was carrying a gun and was part of a gang. The cops are there to keep us safe, apparently, but they're all corrupted by power."

"The kid that got killed, didn't he steal stuff at gunpoint from the 7/11?"

"And who told you that?"

"Neil at work, he-"

"And where did Neil get this information?"

"The news."

I just smiled a grim when he said that, we had come full circle to the thing that had started this war. The thing that I loathed the most. The media and its nonsensical crap.

"Television, newspapers, radio, they are a virus, an enemy of the people and they just spew lies and fake hope to people. They spread mass hysteria through the people like wildfire. The TV shows chastise you for being too fat, then bombard you with adverts for hamburger joints. We have our lives planned out by the advertisin' agencies, with birth to death advertisin' tailored to your viewing habits. They know everythin' they need to know about you, just by looking at what you watch on the tube." Christian had that look on his face again, that look of deep thought at what I had just said.

That had given him something to think about. I gave him a minute, so I lit a cigarette and leaned back on the wall. It was a long while before he spoke again and when he did, his voice was shaky and uncertain.

"So what do we do?"

"We keep fighting, graffiti here, fires there… maybe hackin' into restricted files so the people can finally see the wool that has been pulled over their eyes, riots and rage on the streets, showing people the truth. I got plans, I got big plans, I'm going to whirl up a shitstorm."

I took the last drag of my cigarette and flicked the filter over the wall, watching the glow fall through the trees below us until it disappeared from sight.

"And it's just you and me executin' these big plans?"

"No," I replied with another grim smile, "There's vigilantes out there on the streets who are more than ready for this. We'll take riots to the cities and fires to the heartlands. And as long as I've got you I ain't ever gonna back down."

Christian smiled and pulled me towards him, kissing me and holding me tightly to his bare chest as if the slightest wind would rip me away from him at any second. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, actually fearing that I just might do that. He pulled away and looked into my eyes, I looked back into his pale blue eyes that seemed to be able to see into your very soul.

I took Christians hand tightly and lead him back to the car. I gestured for him to unlock it and get in. He obliged and I climbed into the passenger seat. Christian pulled his shirt back on and started the engine.

"Where we goin'?" he asked.

"Drive towards town, just drive." I muttered.


	4. Chapter 3: ¡Viva La Gloria!

**Chapter 3**  
-!Viva La Gloria!-  
'_Tell me the story of your life_'

I drove carefully back towards town, my mind mulling over what Gloria had said back on the hilltop. I believed her, I did… but there was something inside me that told me what she said was false. I pushed those militant thoughts to the back of my mind and concentrated on Gloria's words, letting them truly sink in.

She was so right, she was crazy but she was right. The things that were going on in this fucked up world were wrong. I'd get home from work and turn the news on to see kids in war torn countries carrying AK47's, calling themselves soldiers in a holy war. No 12 year old boy should be a soldier.

I noticed she hadn't spoken since we got in the car and the silence was killing me. I looked over at her, her eyes were fixed dead ahead on the road illuminated by the moonlight and the headlights of my car.

"Hey Gloria," I said quietly, "You 'kay?"

She just nodded, not taking her eyes off the road. I couldn't bare the silence a second longer and I switched the radio on. The radio station was playing some kind of country music and I couldn't be bothered changing it. Anything was better than the silence.

Gloria reached out and twisted the dial to the number of a local radio station. A calm female voice burst into life through the static. It was obviously a local news report.

"_… the police officer was found badly beaten in the middle off the road, he is currently in a stable condition. Local police are calling for any witnesses to-_"

I shut the radio off with a pale, shaking hand. I began to sweat and my eyes were wide in horror. Gloria placed a small, cold hand on my forearm and squeezed it gently.

"You haven't been in trouble with the police before, have you?" she asked.

"God, no…" I replied, my voice quivering a little.

"It's fine, sounds like the bastard won't remember a thing anyway."

"Gloria, tell me, what made you be like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like this wild thing… I've never met anyone like you before, never."

She sighed and reached into her back pocket, pulled out her gleaming silver knuckleduster. She fitted it into her hand, smiling at the fact it fitted her small fingers perfectly. She ran her free hand over the smooth metal, her fingertips running around the edge of the knuckleduster.

"My daddy gave me this this before the cops killed him. Said that he had them made for me, cause no girl should walk down the street without some kind of protection from the creeps at night." she explained in a low voice.

"You're dad got shot?"

"Yeah, two bullets… one above his left ventricle, the other right between his eyes. They wanted to make sure he was dead."

"Jesus, I mean, what did he do to deserve that?"

"He was falsely accused of killing my mom with a hammer, but the cops wouldn't believe the word of a 15 year old kid. I knew it was our next door neighbour. Mom had been sleeping with him for about six months. She didn't know that I knew about the affair. They were gonna run away together, leave me with my daddy and take off to Vancouver, of all places. She got cold feet though and said she was gonna stay with me and daddy, move away and start again. He got wasted and broke into the house when daddy was at work, he didn't know I was upstairs. He started arguing with mum, calling her all the names under the heavens. I was sat at the top of the stairs, to scared to make a break for the front door in case he went after me. He picked up the hammer out of the toolbox daddy kept by the back door and he beat my mother over the head with it, blow after blow."

"Oh fuck…" I said my heart breaking for her.

"Daddy got home and I hadn't moved. He rang the cops and two showed up at the door almost right away. They tried to arrest him on the spot but I screamed at them that it wasn't him they wanted. Then they started threatening him with a gun and daddy grabbed his shotgun and threatened them right back. I don't recon he would've done that if his wife just hadn't been murdered. A SWAT team turned up and there was me stuck in the middle of it all. I remember daddy saying 'I can't watch my daughter get stuck in this mess' and he opened the front door, no gun, hands up, yelling that he was coming quietly and they still shot him dead."

I looked over to her as she paused. Her eyes were glazed over, looking down intently at the silver gleam of the knuckleduster under the passing street lights. She wasn't crying but she was shaking, more in anger than in grief. She took a deep breath and continued.

"Daddy said not to fight them, but I did. They took me to an orphanage for a while, made me go to therapy 'cause they thought what I'd seen had made me crazy. That's when I began to listen to the radio and television closely. I heard the lies about what happened to my mom and dad, I read the newspaper articles. They tried to stop me from reading them, but I was soon picked up by my uncle and taken to his to live with him and his lady friend Charlene. I'd skip school, go missing for days, they didn't fuckin' care. So what if I was missing for a few days? It was one less mouth to feed." Gloria paused and smiled to herself. She ran her fingers across the smooth metal of the knuckles, staring out of the window at the road.

I didn't know what to say and I was pretty sure she wasn't finished yet. So I just kept driving, following the road back towards Gloria's home. I pulled up outside her house and switched off the engine.

Gloria slipped the knuckleduster off her tiny hand and slipped it back into her pocket. She smiled up at me, her face surprisingly calm for someone who had just told me the horrific story of her life. She unclipped her seat belt and opened the door, in a flash she had run around the car and opened my door. She caught my hand and pulled me out of the car. She kissed me gently and pressed herself into my chest.

"Trust me, I will never let anything like that happen to you ever again, I promise you." I whispered into her ear.

"Don't make promises that you can't keep." she whispered back.

With a final kiss she disappeared into her house a wide smile on her face as she closed the door. I waited for a few moments, longing for her to open the door again so I could see her one last time that night. But as the light in her bedroom dimmed, I knew it was time for me to go home.

-o0o-

That night was the beginning of four months of bliss. We rebelled against the authorities, I quit my job at the refinery, preferring to work at the gas station at the edge of town and my mom and dad threw me out of the house. And there was such a surprise when it turned out that Gloria was pregnant. We were so happy. But the Class War raged under our feet and it was not long until we were thrown into it all over again.


	5. Chapter 4: Before the Lobotomy

**Chapter 4**  
- Before the Lobotomy-  
'_Christian's lesson is what he's been sold_'

I ran as fast as I could, which, due to the fact I was 5 months pregnant, wasn't all that fast really. I heard yelling behind me and I tried to pick up the my pace. I got a pain in my chest and I swung around a corner and cleared a small wall. The cops following me kept running down the main street and I watched them from my hiding place in the bushes.

I lay there for a while, letting my heart beat return to normal. I felt really sick and I knew I shouldn't have run that fast, but it was either that or get caught. I wiped the sweat off my brow with a shaking hand and looked up at the evening sky. It was still tinged with a purple glow but darkness was falling quickly. I rubbed the babies bump gently, feeling the baby shift a little, I smiled. The kid was okay, it was tough. Even at this tender age, I knew this kid was going to be a fighter and that thought just made me smile all the more.

It took me a while to feel confident enough that the cops had left for me to leave my hiding place. I walked out from behind the wall and headed home, walking as fast as I could with the hood of my jacket up and my hands tucked into my pockets, shivering in the cool summer breeze. Christian would be worrying himself stupid, no doubt. I would have rung him an hour ago but my cell had run out of battery.

I opened the front door and gave a long happy sigh, pulled my jacket off, kicked my shoes off and threw my keys into the little kitsch earthenware bowl we kept by the front door.

"Honey, is that you?" Christian called from the kitchen.

"Yeah…" I replied.

Christian peered around the frame of the door, he was smiling but it was easy to see that he had been worrying about me, his eyes were red around the lids. He had a habit of rubbing his eyes until they were sore when he was worried. He held his arms out and I walked towards him, letting him hold me close to his body. Or at least as close as I could get with the growing bump.

"Where've you been?" he asked holding me gently by the arms and looking into my eyes.

I could feel the heat off his hands through the thin sleeves of my shirt. I looked deeply into his eyes and I knew I couldn't lie to him, he could see right through me… but I had to try.

"I just went for a walk." I replied, a small smile on my face.

Christian just sighed at me and fixed me with a look of concern. He stroked the wisps of hair that had fallen around my face out of my eyes, sweeping them behind my ears. His hand lingered on my cheek for a second, his fingers softly stroking my cold cheek.

"I thought you said you wouldn't do this anymore? I thought you said you'd stop, at least 'til the baby's been born." he said, his hands on my belly now.

I felt like a child being scolded and I hate to admit it… he was right.

-o0o-

Sleep came surprisingly easily that night. There was none of the usual upheaval of trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in and having to get up to pee every five minutes. It seemed for the first time that baby and I were in complete harmony, that and I was completely drained. I drifted off to sleep without a care in the world, dreaming of another place and time, Christians arms wrapped around me.

It was at 4 am they came, with their guns and their bright flashlights and their screaming and shouting. They stormed through the front and back yard doors, kicking them in, yelling for us to put our hands up and stay where we were. My heart was beating so fast that I genuinely thought it was going to burst through my ribcage. Then there was this calm silence for a moment and it seemed that the whole world was standing still, taking a deep breath before the brutality of reality came crashing down around me.

I was dragged from the bed by strong hands and I distantly heard the cop arrest me for the attempted murder of a police officer. But the one thing that made the tears fall was not the fact I was going to prison, I knew that was going to happen at some point, it was Christians screams of rage and love that tore at my heart strings. I turned to him as they roughly pulled my hands behind my back and I smiled at him. A reassuring smile that everything, for him at least, was going to be okay. He stared at me and forced his face into a look of anger sealing his lips and grinding his teeth in pure rage.

I vaguely remember being practically carried down the stairs, my knees had become weak even though I wanted to walk out of the house with pride and my head held high, it seemed like my body just wouldn't let me. When they got me outside, a crowd had formed of neighbours wanting to find out what was happening. Let them watch, I thought, let them see. They were like vultures circling the corpse of the underground movement.

But in amongst the crowd of nosy neighbours were others I recognised, their faces half hidden by hoods and scarves wrapped around their mouths. They stood their in silence, watching me. I gave a slight nod at them and they looked at each other over the heads of the crowd and turned away, walking quickly away from my house and into the dark. They'd be back at the old garage on the corner of Adeline Street, sinking whisky shots and smoking cheap cigarettes by the time I'd been bundled into the back of a waiting cop car.

I managed to see Christian before we pulled away, arguing with a cop and struggling against the grip of another, trying to get to me. I looked through the other window at the crowd, who were now yelling for the cop to hit him and I just sank into despair. It was enough to make you sick, watching them bay for his blood practically. It was just another form of entertainment for their media warped minds. Like war was not enough for them, they had to have it on their front doorsteps. Well… that would soon be arranged.


End file.
